Listen to your heart

(and your muse, when she's talking to you)

Does your body sometimes sense that something is wrong before it happens?

Jane, the protagonist in my upcoming novel Wildflower says:

Sometimes I get the shivers when something bad is going to happen, like I’m cold but it’s not cold. I’ve got the shivers now.

~ WILDFLOWER

I had that intuition this week. It started with unexpected heart palpitations before work. A sense of unease, of foreboding. Something was wrong … or about to happen.

‘What are you worried about?’ my husband texted when I told him.

I don’t know, I answered. There’s just something about today.

Driving to work, I called my best friend, to hear her voice, to distract me from this strange sense of “off-ness”.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked. ‘No, really, are you okay?’ She didn’t sound convinced when I said I was fine, just tired, and changed the subject. I didn’t mention the funny feeling – it was probably in my head, right?

An hour later, my working life was turned upside down and inside out. The team was thrown into deep, dark water, swamped by waves of uncertainty.

And yet, I knew something before I knew uncertainty.

My heartbeat went up and stayed up – not just for the first few hours when no one knew what was going on, but for the rest of the week. My dreams were vivid:

Half buried in limestone rubble, a snake. Watching from above, ready to strike, a kookaburra.

I can’t share the specifics, but I can say that that morning was one of the most stressful I’ve had in my working life. The job I had held for almost 12 years was suddenly redundant.

What happened next was the subject of intense negotiations.

A lifebuoy ring was flung at us from another party; the team scrambled aboard and held onto a raft, holding on for dear life in stormy seas. By Friday we had all been offered temporary employment contracts, which will cover us while an extensive review takes place.

There is still much uncertainty, but also hope. (I am privileged to have this hope when so many in this world have little, or have no “lifebuoy rings” to hoist them from the depths.)

I spent the rest of the week putting out spot fires, observing, waiting, wondering. Holding the fort with another staff member. Hosting an evening writers open mic at work with my happy face on, when I really wanted to curl up in a ball.

But one thing I have learned, many times over, is that I can do hard things.

My heart rate did not go down. I have been dosing up on Cold & Flu tablets since Friday. Only now, late on a Sunday afternoon do I feel my body returning to some semblance of normal.

Only now am I able to feel the hope offered with that lifebuoy ring, to allow myself to believe that another door has opened and it’s a good thing.

(It’s one thing knowing something logically, another knowing it emotionally.)

I haven’t written all week – I have not been able to. But instead of fighting it with shoulds and coulds like I usually do, I’ve listened to La Muse.

Rest, she tells me. Rest until you are ready. I will still be there.

(As I write, the song “Listen to Your Heart” by Roxette is in my head. Did La Muse put it there?)

I’ve gone back to basics. Sat in the sun. Walked on the beach. Closed my eyes and listened to the waves. To the birds in my garden. Picked citrus fruit and packed it up for my local Buy Nothing group. Baked brownies. Finally had coffee with my husband (after four days of working overtime and coming home too late for caffeine). Watched a feel-good movie or two.

Caught up with my kids.

Caught up with my Self.

Tomorrow is a new beginning.

How do you cope when life blindsides you?

PS. Wildflower is out in one month. Pre-order links coming soon!